


Double Date

by lukegray (spacebarista)



Category: The Following
Genre: Dead People, M/M, Oral Sex, Twincest, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebarista/pseuds/lukegray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Valentine's Day and Mark and Luke have something special planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Date

**Author's Note:**

  * For [almostfamousgrl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostfamousgrl/gifts).



> I had talked to my pal Sarah about this idea earlier in the week when thinking of VD fics to write, so I wrote it for her as a Valdentine's Day gift.

Mark finishes lighting the candles on the dark wood table as Luke brings in the last plates of food. The dinner is elaborate, much more so than the one they had with the family in New York. Luke has gone all out with the food: lobster, steak, potatoes in oil and herbs, bread made from scratch, roasted vegetables, fresh salad, and plenty of red and white wine. There are a few desserts in the fridge as well: tiramisu, chocolate mousse, even crème brûlée. But it has to be special. They can’t just make a nice dinner and half-assed dessert and decor.

It’s for their dates, after all.

Two young blonde women are seated across from each other at the table, one in red, one in blue. They are decked out in their best jewels: shining silver and bright stones. Their makeup is incredible, and their hair is done nicely, one in an updo, the other with her hair flowing down to her shoulders. They are silent. Simply sitting at the table while the twins set up. 

Around their delicate necks are rings of bruises. And their red lipstick hides blue lips. They are the sort of company Mark and Luke enjoy. 

Pretty and dead.

Mark takes his seat beside the woman in blue as Luke finishes setting the table. He looks over at her, a small smile on his face. “Why, Kristen, you look gorgeous. How did you know I’d be wearing blue? I don’t think I mentioned it…” He looks down at his blue button up and dark jeans. He’s dressed nicer at Luke’s behest. Luke had said he should look nice for his date. She’s lovely and he should do his best to match her. He doesn’t follow his brother’s advice about styling his hair. If Kristen is going to like him, she has to like his hair the way it is. Plus, he’d never meet a new girl without the shield of black locks on his forehead.

Luke somehow looks better than he usually did. He’s dressed more formal than Mark. He’s in a white shirt with a thinner black tie, along with black trousers. He’d shucked his blazer and rolled up his sleeves at some point during the preparations. As Luke moves around the table, Mark watches his muscles move under the shirt, watches how it tightens around his shoulders and tries to break free from his waistline. But he should be paying attention to his date. He looks at Kristen.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” He stares at her, imagines her smiling like she had when they met three days ago in the park. He imagines her complimenting him and thanking him for his compliments. He doesn’t always get the same attention his brother gets, and imagining women talking to him the way they talk to his brother his always something he enjoys. He smiles shyly, pushing his chair in more in a show of modesty. “Thanks. I don’t dress up very often. I’m glad you think so.” He brushes a lock of hair behind her ear. “I wanted to look nice for you.”

“And I think you succeeded, right, Elena?” Mark looks back at Luke, who is finally settling in beside his date. Luke grins at him, shooting him a wink before he turns to Elena. “You’re right, he does look cute. Like he’s on his first date or something.”

Mark glares at his brother. Sure, he’s younger, but Luke always has to hammer home that he dresses more mature looks more mature. At least Mark acts mature. He looks back to Kristen. She’ll defend him. “I have been on more than a few dates, thanks. More of mine ended well, though.” He can feel Luke’s eyes burning a hole through him. “Well, let’s get you something to eat. What would you like first?” He nods. Of course, she has expensive tastes. “Lobster? All right then. Potatoes, too?”

Mark and Luke gather bits of the spread and place them onto the women’s plates and theirs. Luke gets more protein than Mark, as usual, and Mark makes sure Kristen has plenty on her plate. They both pour wine into their glasses. Mark takes some of the white wine, and Luke takes the red. It’s a dinner soaked in old habits: their opposite tastes, Luke taking care of himself before Elena, long looks over the candles and platters, and questions answered with silence. But Mark and Luke laugh and smile anyway. They can hear what the women are saying, after all.

Once everyone has food on their plates, and the brothers start to dig in, conversation slows. 

“So, Kristen,” Luke says, sawing into his steak. “What do you do for a living?” There’s a pause as both brothers look at her. 

Mark smiles, looking at his brother with pride. “She’s being modest, she works at the theater as a set designer.” He places his hand on hers, which is resting on her fork. “Her sketches for Coriolanus are stunning.”

“No wonder Mark is smitten by you.” Luke grins wolfishly as he snatches the steak off his fork and chews it. “He loves the arts.” Mark looks at Kristen again, picturing the black, grey, and red of her drawings that she showed him over coffee. She had gushed about how proud she was. That’s when Mark knew she was perfect. Luke clears his throat. “Elena here is a model.” He leans conspiratorily over the table, his smile widening. “Lingerie.”

Mark smiles tightly at Elena. Figures that’s what his brother would go for. Must have picked her up at a Victoria’s Secret or something. Not that he blames Luke; Elena is stunningly beautiful, and well-suited as a lingerie model. But it’s always the same with him. Little depth, big everything else. “That’s wonderful. I’m sure you usually get to go out with classier men than my brother.”

Luke snorts, but doesn’t rise to the challenge, too distracted by his masterpiece of a steak. The rest of dinner goes about the same, both of them making jabs at each other through the imagined rapport with the two women. As the evening wears on, the candles wear down, and the wine begins to run out, Mark and Luke find themselves looking more at each other than at their dates. Looking for long whiles, too. Luke barely shows how much he’s had to drink. He could always hold his alcohol well. Mark’s cheeks are warm; he knows he’s flushed. He already looks ten years younger than he is, and the pinker hue of his skin will only give his brother more fodder.  
He grins. “Alright there, Mark? You look a little–”

“‘M fine. Don’t worry about me. Kristen, aren’t you going to finish your wine? Can’t leave me buzzed by myself...”

Soon, the food is cleared away, and the brothers head to the kitchen to bring dessert out. Luke takes the time to brush against Mark’s front and he passes him to get to the fridge. Mark wavers, and breathes deep to steady himself. He should expect this by now. But Luke hands him the tiramisu and waves him out, and Mark takes that opportunity to escape to the dining room. He would rather talk to Kristen and Elena than be trapped in the kitchen with Luke. He’s not stable enough for that.

Dessert is as delicious as dinner. Mark loves dessert, loves sweets and everything that comes with them. Luke makes decadent desserts, and what he had made for them tonight is on par with Mark’s expectations. He digs into tiramisu with vigor, propriety less important with the wine in him. He feels Luke’s eyes on him again as he eats. His enthusiasm is inflating Luke’s ego, he knows it. He looks up to see Luke holding a bit of mousse to Elena’s lips. She won’t eat Luke’s masterpieces like Mark will. She can’t.

When his small plate is clean, he washes it down with the wine left in his bottle. It’s heavy in his hand, but he manages to gulp the liquid down without dropping it. He gasps, wiping at his lips with the back of his hand. When he looks back to his brother, he is staring between Mark and Elena with shock. 

“Elena, you naughty little thing!” Mark raises a brow, still panting slightly. Luke grins and leans over to kiss the mousse off her cold lips, and comes away with a mouth stained red. “Mark, this young lady thinks we should kiss!”

“Does she now?” Mark should have expected this from Luke, but he’s fuzzy, unfocused. He looks to Kristen and shoots her an apologetic grin. “I don’t think Kristen would be a fan of that, Luke–”

“Nonsense! Two attractive young men making out, what’s not to love, right dear?” His question is directed to Kristen, and before Mark can argue, Luke’s on his feet, rounding the table. “This is all for them, Mark. We can’t deny them what they want! That’s selfish of us.” Mark gulps, tilting his head up to meet Luke’s eyes. Luke pulls his chair out and turns it to face him. He leans down, face inches from Mark’s, and claps a hand on his shoulder. “We can’t be selfish, brother.”

Luke closes the distance and captures Mark’s mouth with his. Luke tastes like mousse and red wine, which clashes with what Mark had eaten, but he finds himself too tipsy to care. Luke’s hand moves to his jaw as their mouths work against each other, and Mark finds his hand fisted in the front of Luke’s pristine shirt. When Luke finally pulls back, both of them are flushed and panting. Luke kisses him twice more, light and teasing, before dropping to his knees with a wicked look on his face. 

“How about we give them a real show?”

Luke again doesn’t give Mark time to argue, and is undoing his belt and jeans with gusto before Mark really knows what’s going on. Luke works Mark out of his boxers and grins up at him. “Hard already? You’re such a horny little drunk, Mark.” 

Mark focusses on his breathing, watching as Luke licks up his hand slowly, eyes not leaving Mark’s. He takes Mark in his hand again and pumps his fist agonizingly slow, teasing him to get him even harder. The women aren’t there anymore, just the two of them, eyes locked and faces flushed. Doing very unbrotherly things. Mark wants badly to let his head fall back, to close his eyes and enjoy Luke’s touch, but he can’t bring himself to look away from Luke’s grin and his hand on him.

Mark’s hips twitch, and pre-cum leaks from his cock. Luke must take that as a sign. His grin widens, and he winks at Mark before leaning down and taking him in his mouth. Mark shouts, his hand moving to grip at Luke’s hair. Part of him feels bad that he’s ruining his brother’s perfect hair, but then Luke starts to move, dragging his teeth lightly against his skin, and he doesn’t care if he tears that damn hair out. 

Mark lets his head fall back, finally, rocking his hips slightly along with Luke’s movements. Luke is always good at giving head. It isn’t a giving thing: it’s Luke taking power, Luke getting a thrill from making Mark whine and groan and cry out. If he has his way, he’d be the only one allowed to do it. Luke pauses in his movements to suck hard, and Mark whines long and loud. Luke chuckles, and Mark feels it. It sends shivers through his whole body. 

Mark’s panting gets harsher, his grip on Luke’s hair gets harder. He’s not going to give Luke the satisfaction of telling him when he’s going to come, he rarely does. But his body always betrays him in the end. He tips his head down to look at Luke to find that he’s watching him, his eyes bright and proud. He knows. He once again drags his teeth along him, then, again, sucks hard, harder than before. And Mark lets go, moaning Luke’s name.

Luke swallows him down, continuing until Mark’s spent and slouched in the chair. His head tips back again as he tries to catch his breath. The fuzziness of the wine is gone, and everything is clear and sharp. Luke stands, dragging a hand across his mouth, looking smug as anything. He leans over Mark, kissing him gently again. Mark makes a soft sound when he tastes himself on Luke’s tongue. When Luke pulls back, Mark’s eyes move up to his hair, and he smiles, a weak laugh bubbling from him.

“C’mere.”

Luke raises an eyebrow, but bends again as his brother asks. Mark raises a weary arm and smooths his hand over Luke’s hair, fixing it the best he can. When it’s mostly flat, he lets his hand move to Luke’s cheek and pats it. 

“Quite a show, Luke.”

Luke grins. “I hope so.” He looks over Mark’s head at Kristen and Elena. “How about I clean up, and you head up to the bedroom and wait for me.”

“Without our dates?”

“Oh, Mark,” he coos, leaning down to kiss him again. “ _You’re_ my bloody valentine. Get yourself upstairs and I’ll bring you more tiramisu.”

Mark nods, watching Luke move to clear the table as he gets up on shaky legs. He tucks himself back in his boxers, but leaves his pants undone. He starts to head out of the room, then turns back to the table. 

“Ladies, it’s been lovely, but I’m afraid we’ve got no room in our relationship. Sorry to have led you on” He bows, then ducks out of the room. He can hear Luke’s laughter all the way up the stairs. He hopes Luke keeps his word. 

He’s going to need the fuel.


End file.
